Splintered
by monkeyCsaw
Summary: Some cats will sacrifice everything for their Clan. Two kits grow up to learn that the world they live in is merciless and cold and that time does not heal all wounds.
1. Prologue

Hallo all, welcome back to the train wreck that is my writing. I'm Monkey, for those who don't know, and I am back from a very long hiatus. This is a new story I couldn't get out of my head. _Legendary_ may or may not be returned to (who knows honestly). This prologue has not been edited or beta-d by my wonderful beta reader Sierra of the Stars. This is the only chapter that will not be edited or beta-tested (I'm just super lazy and I want this story up). I hope you enjoy!

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**Prologue**

Her paws slipped on the melting snow as she snuck her way through a sleeping camp. Here and there she could see stubborn hints of green poking up beneath the white. The new moon had only a sliver of its cold silver glory. The night was cold and damp. The twinkle of her ancestors up above did nothing to comfort her now. She had started down a path they could not follow.

She slipped inside a warm den made of gorse and budding green leaves.

A black-furred she-cat blinked open her weary eyes, watching the other queen approach expressionlessly.

"Thank you," the first cat mewed around the bundle of fur in her mouth. The black queen said nothing, staring instead at the kit.

A white kit swung gracelessly from her jaws, ears flat and mouth open in a soundless wail. Its little paws kneaded empty air.

The den was empty except for another queen who remained sound asleep, swollen belly rising and falling gently as she inhaled and exhaled gentle dreams of tumbling, soft-furred kits.

She set the kit down near the black queen, yellow eyes warm and sad and tired. She nudged the kit forward and watched it suckle eagerly. She felt something melt inside her and she leaned forward and gave her kit a gentle lick on the head.

Her gaze met the black she-cat's and they shared a silent understanding.

This kit would not suffer from its parents' sins.


	2. Chapter 1

First chapter up only thirty minutes after upload, gotta be my record. Anyway, a little boring but then again first chapters are rarely uber exciting. Many thanks to my fantastic beta, Sierra of the Stars. Really, I can't thank her enough. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 1**

Brightkit was woken by a sharp, insistent paw. Warm fur brushed against hers, and if she kept her eyes closed she could pretend it was her mother's fur again, soft and thick. But the paw was unrelenting and she eventually blinked awake to the sight of Snowkit's bright eyes, framed by his soft white kit face. Of course it wasn't her mother. Her mother had been dead for nearly a moon now. Cold grief crept through her veins and dissolved when her gaze met Snowkit's.

"Is it even dawn?" she groaned. Snowkit shrugged, poking her just one more time.

"Wake up," he hissed. Brightkit could see his long tail twitching playfully behind him. She forced herself to her paws, yawning, before reaching out to cuff him. He ducked and pounced on her, laughing with all the ease of the kit he was. Brightkit laughed. She shoved him off and pinned him down.

"Win," she crowed triumphantly and her friend rolled his eyes. Before he could answer, another voice interrupted him.

"Could you two take it outside?" Silverkit muttered crossly. His silver fur stuck up in strange places all over his body, and he glared at them from his mother's side. Nightfeather remained sound asleep, black flanks rising and falling in a gentle rhythm.

Snowkit ducked his head bashfully. "Sorry, Silverkit," he apologized, nudging his brother gently. Brightkit turned as Pebblesong, the only other queen, stirred, raising her rumpled grey head and yawning.

"Why don't you two go get something to eat?" she growled. Her three kits were sound asleep at her side, a bundle of grey, white, and black. As Brightkit and Snowkit scampered by, she muttered something about them being a public menace and lay her head back down, asleep again in just a few moments.

Brightkit trotted alongside her white-furred friend to the prey pile, where they picked out a rabbit to share. Her good mood had not been diminished by their tired denmates. She watched with amazement as he tore into his half of the rabbit with vigor, finishing it in just a minute. "How do you do that?" she asked, amused, and he just shrugged.

After they were done, she watched as the Clan woke up. The dawn patrol hurried off with sleepy yawns and grumbling apprentices. Thistlepelt, the deputy, made his way to Whitestar's den with a mouse in his jaws, no doubt to discuss patrols and hunting parties for the day. Everyone had a purpose, and Brightkit watched with envy. She yearned to be a part of the Clan's life.

"Let's do something," she meowed aloud, turning to Snowkit. She itched to get out of camp and see the world. A world she knew only by the stories the elders had purred on warm greenleaf evenings.

"Like what?"

"Anything. Let's get out of here. I bet I can catch a mouse before you!"

Snowkit's ears flattened. "We're not allowed to leave camp," he pointed out nervously. Brightkit jumped to her paws. The more she thought about her plan, the better she liked it.

"Who says anyone has to know?" she countered mischievously. "Besides, we're almost apprentices anyway. And if we get away with it, that'll give Firepaw something to chew on." Her friend's eyes lit up and he said nothing else as they made their way to the dirt place tunnel. Brightkit slipped out confidently, yellow tail waving behind her. Snowkit followed quietly, keeping close to her as they emerged into the forest.

It was beautiful. There was no other way to explain it. The leaves were changing colors, singing their deaths to the world with all the pride of a warrior. Brightkit's breath caught as she gazed at the fog that writhed through the forest like a great white snake, cold and thick. Noise was everywhere; birds cried and tree branches creaked in the wind. Her paws sank into the ground beneath her and she savored the way the earth felt between her toes and under her claws.

Snowkit stared at her, wide-eyed. "It's huge," he whispered reverently.

"It's wonderful," she said, padding forward. They snuck by the entrance to the camp and then they were on their merry way, sniffing at thorns and picking their way carefully through bramble bushes. Snowkit never strayed from her side, gazing around in wonder as she chattered on to him about what she could smell and hear and feel. They went on like this for quite some time before she stopped, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.

"I've had an idea," she purred. Snowkit blinked. She didn't wait for him to respond before continuing excitedly, "What if we spy on ShadowClan? That'll give the Clan something to chew on!"

He paused, tail twitching nervously, and Brightkit waited with baited breath for his response. Slowly, he said, "As long as we're careful—"

"Let's go!"

She dashed headlong into the undergrowth, all thoughts of stealth and silence forgotten. She could practically taste her father's praise, his acknowledgement. Her mother had once pointed out the general direction of the marsh-loving Clan and so Brightkit ran on blindly, thirsting for victory. Perhaps the lingering grief in her father's eyes would be chased away for just a moment, and it would be just like before again. Before her mother died. Before her father stopped visiting.

"Brightkit," Snowkit mewed quietly and she turned to him, slowing her pace, suddenly realizing she'd been sprinting. Not that he was having a very difficult time keeping up, with his long legs. "I don't know if this is a good idea."

She stopped, tilting her head again and digging her claws into the hardened earth. "Why?"

"They're an enemy Clan," Snowkit pointed out, fur bristling ever so slightly. "If we get caught, we'll be in so much trou—"

"Snowkit!" she burst out, eyes wide as a full moon. "We have to do this. We need to be brave, like Whitestar and Lionstrike."

She watched his white paws knead the ground. He had never been this opposed to one of her plans before. Snowkit was her best friend, her brother almost. They had been born only weeks apart. He had grieved with her when her mother died. He had gotten in trouble alongside her when they raided the medicine cat den looking for catmint. His calmer, more cautious brother rarely approved of her plans but _Sno wkit_, he was always by her side.

Now, his yellow eyes were filled with anxiety. He huffed, tail lashing. "We need to be really careful, then. If we get in trouble, this could delay our apprentice ceremony," he muttered through clenched teeth. Brightkit nodded eagerly.

"We'll be a quiet as a mouse," she promised and began to move more cautiously than before, Snowkit close behind her. Soon, the stench of ShadowClan began to grow until it surrounded them, overpowering their senses.

"StarClan, they stink," Snowkit growled and Brightkit snickered.

Then, suddenly, she was falling over a branch. The rough bark gave way beneath her paws to cool earth. Stones scraped at her back and paws as she fell. A thorn nicked her shoulder. She tumbled into a small clearing surrounded by gorse with a yelp. A bird screeched, flapping its wings noisily and taking off, still screaming. Brightkit looked up into a pair of the iciest eyes she had ever seen and flinched as a black paw pressed down on her chest.

"Don't move," the tom snarled, white teeth flashing. "You just ruined my catch! You stupid, bumbling kit. All you ThunderClan cats are good for is messing things up."

Snowkit came rushing in, yowling, and threw himself at Brightkit's attacker. The black tom, taken by surprise, recoiled, and Brightkit squirmed her way out from under his paw. Snowkit lashed at his face with unsheathed claws, bellowing incoherently. The tom snapped at him, teeth flashing in the sun, body coiled like a snake preparing to strike. His black fur glistened in the sun and for a moment, Brightkit could imagine him as an actual viper, poised for the attack.

"Batpaw!"

The tom didn't twitch, ears flat as he hissed at the white kit crouched in front of him.

"They're ThunderClan trespassers, Addertail!" Batpaw spat.

Brightkit leaned around Snowkit to see a big red-brown tom approach, dark amber eyes narrowed.

"Step back," he ordered calmly. "Really, Batpaw, they're just a couple of kits."

"They're spies!"

"I recall a certain black kit doing the very same thing when he was in the nursery."

Batpaw glared at the older tom indignantly. "That was different," he protested. "I didn't actually cross the border!"

"Because we caught you before you could," Addertail purred. He glanced at the two kits, ears twitching when he observed Snowkit's aggressive stance. "Who are you?" he asked, sitting and wrapping his tail around his paws. Snowkit relaxed reluctantly and Brightkit slipped from behind him, head raised defiantly.

"I'm Brightkit, and this is Snowkit," she answered confidently. Addertail's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"Of course," he murmured. "You look just like your father." Brightkit lowered her eyes shyly, staring instead at her white tipped paws.

"Who are you?" she asked a moment later, bold once more.

"I'm Addertail, deputy of ShadowClan. And this is Batpaw, my apprentice." Brightkit's breath caught. Her ear twitched and she felt Snowkit tense beside her.

She'd heard stories about him. About how he had gone out into a blizzard to find food for a starving queen and her kits. And the time he dived into the lake after a drowning apprentice. The elders said he had not been touched by the frost that froze ShadowClan hearts.

Batpaw made an impatient noise and Addertail sighed. "My apprentice and I have hunting to do, so I'll escort you back to your own territory now." His voice sounded almost apologetic but his eyes twinkled with good humor. "I'm sure your Clan must be getting worried by now."

Brightkit realized suddenly that it was nearly sunhigh. The shadows of the trees and plants stretched over her body. She winced inwardly. Nightfeather would be frantic by now.

"We can make it by ourselves," Snowkit mewed, chest puffed. Addertail shook his head regretfully.

He leaned down closer to the white tomcat, amber eyes serious. "The warrior code says we must treat others with respect," he answered patiently. "It's my duty as a warrior to escort you off our territory to ensure your safety."

Batpaw snorted and Brightkit glared at the black apprentice. He was such a grumpypaws.

Snowkit hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. He looked at Brightkit. "We kind of have to," he mewed and she shrugged.

"I'm okay with it," she told him, brushing him with her tail lightly. His eyes lit up and Brightkit almost purred. It was obvious her friend admired the big tom as much as she did.

He led them back the way they had come, stepping easily over roots and rocks that Brightkit stumbled over with her still-too-big kit feet. She watched him move enviously, wishing for that ease. Her father had always boasted about her size, being bigger than most other she-kits, but still smaller than a tom. He had once told her that it proved she would be a great warrior someday. But bumbling through the dense undergrowth was making her think twice about that.

They arrived at last at the border and Brightkit saw with a sinking heart that her father was waiting for them. He'd probably heard Batpaw's grumbling from a good while away.

"Addertail," he greeted the tom politely, dipping his head. Behind him, Stonefall and Firepaw murmured words of greeting as well. Addertail dipped his head in return.

"I assume you're looking for these little ones," Addertail mewed, gesturing with his tail to Brightkit and Snowkit, neither of whom dared to look at their Clanmates.

"I'm sorry if they've caused you any trouble," Lionstrike apologized, glaring at his golden furred kit. She felt the heat of his stare through her fur and she winced when she made eye contact with him. Her father was _furious_.

Addertail merely shrugged. Snowkit nudged her shoulder and moved toward the patrol, ears and tail low. Brightkit followed in a similar manner, scampering to safety behind Stonefall.

"Brightkit," her father said coldly. She peered around Stonefall's grey-white leg fearfully, ears flat. "What do you say to Addertail?"

"Thank you, Addertail," she mumbled, staring at her paws. Snowkit echoed her thanks, gazing at the enemy warrior with shining eyes. Batpaw fidgeted and Addertail's tail twitched.

"If you don't mind," he meowed kindly, "my apprentice and I have some hunting to do."

Lionstrike dipped his head once more before signaling to the patrol. Brightkit hastened to keep up as they began to move at a fast pace through the forest toward home. Snowkit stuck by her side, allowing his fur to brush hers every once in a while. Brightkit struggled to keep her paws under control, biting back whimpers as they caught on rocks and thorns tore at her fur.

Once they were in sight of camp, they slowed and Lionstrike allowed the rest to overtake him. "Take Snowkit to his mother," he ordered. "I'm going to speak with my daughter out here for a little while."

Stonefall nodded, casting Brightkit a sympathetic glance before turning and leading the way into camp. Snowkit looked back at his friend, eyes filled with worry, and she did her best to appear unconcerned. Once they were out of sight her father's shoulders slumped and she could see the old grief creeping through his bones again.

"Father, I'm sorry," she began quietly, head bowed. "I just wanted an adventure."

Lionstrike remained silent for quite some time. The forest around them darkened gradually and Brightkit waited for his response with a twitching tail and flat ears.

Suddenly, her cheek was stinging with pain and she was flying onto her back, whimpering. She stared at her father with wide green eyes, hardly believing he had struck her.

"I have never been more thoroughly humiliated," he hissed. She scrambled to her paws and crouched before him, trembling.

"Father, please," she whispered.

"You put yourself in unnecessary danger, behaved improperly, and dragged Snowkit into it as well!" her father growled. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the next blow.

But he did not strike. He stood, chest heaving, for a moment then stepped back. The anger in his eyes faded and Brightkit looked up to see that he suddenly seemed to have aged five years. He looked fragile. Brightkit got the feeling that any words may break him apart. so she remained silent, merely staring at him as he breathed, in and out, cool air and hot air, inhale and exhale. His sadness choked her, washing over her own grief and amplifying it.

"Go," he finally rasped. She turned tail and fled, stumbling through the gorse tunnel. Hot blood dripped from her cheek to her shoulder. She snuck around the edge of camp, slipping into the medicine cat den unnoticed.

"Sagefall," she croaked. The stout pale she-cat appeared from the dark recesses of her den, eyes wide.

In moments, she was pressing cobwebs to Brightkit's face gently, soaking another bundle in marigold juice. "What happened?" she asked quietly.

Brightkit swallowed. Her paw twitched as she answered, "I fell, coming back just now." Sagefall's gentle yet disbelieving gaze held for a moment longer before she simply nodded and touched the damp cobwebs to her face. Brightkit hissed at the sting but stayed still, allowing the older she-cat to fuss over her. She soaked her bruised paws in cool water and pried the thorns and stickers from Brightkit's thick fur.

Outside, the Clan was readying itself for bed. Brightkit watched her father slip into camp, heading straight for the warriors den. His head hung low and his tail trailed in the dust.

"All done," Sagefall announced after a few minutes of grooming. Brightkit purred her thanks, peeling the cobwebs off of her face gently. The cuts still throbbed with a faint pain but she swallowed her complaints, thanking the medicine cat once more before heading off to the nursery.

Snowkit waited for her in her nest, gold eyes bright and steady. He took one look at the wound on her face and winced. "How did that happen?" he asked. But he already knew. Snowkit always knew. Brightkit shrugged, curling up in a tight ball and shutting her eyes tight.

"I'm sorry, Snowkit," she sighed. He settled down next to her, pressing his back to hers. They had slept like this since her mother's death.

"We had fun, didn't we?" he said with a rumbling purr. She gave no answer, succumbing to the waves of black sleep licking at her fur.


	3. Chapter 2

Ya'll are already gonna be upset with me after this chapter. Woops, heh. Many thanks to Sierra, my wonderful beta (I'm going to be a broken record on every chapter but seriously guys she's amazing). Enjoy!

PS: would you like me to post allegiances here or on my blog? Say the word and it shall be done my wonderful readers.

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**Chapter 2**

Ten days of waiting was their punishment.

Time crawled by. On the day of the ceremony, Brightkit awoke, hardly daring to believe that this was the day she actually received a mentor. She was so excited, she almost forgot that her mother would not be grooming her for her ceremony, as was the custom. She raised her head slowly to begin her own grooming just as her father's sleek golden head pushed through the entrance.

"Groom yourself well. Make me proud," he growled before retreating. He hadn't even bothered to tell her good morning.

Snowkit and Silverkit received a warmer greeting from their mother, whose eyes were tinged with just the palest shade of grief. She was no doubt remembering her mate, Palefur, who had died when his sons were only two moons old.

"I'm so proud of you," she purred, smoothing the fur on top of Snowkit's head with her tongue. Brightkit watched just a little enviously.

Nightfeather rose from her nest and leaned over Brightkit, licking her shoulder gently. A lump rose in Brightkit's throat and for just a moment she could pretend that Nightfeather's amber eyes were her own mothers'. But they were the wrong color and shape and Brightkit tasted disappointment, bitter and metallic.

"You, too, Brightkit," she said. She gave a choked purr before turning to swat at Silverkit, whose fur was impeccably shiny and groomed down. He refused to rise to her bait, choosing instead to send her a positively murderous glare.

"If you two do anything to mess today up…" he said crossly.

Brightkit laughed, remembering how he had scolded them the day after their escapade. He had, of course, asked Whitestar to hold off on his ceremony until his brother could join him.

"Not that you two deserve my presence," he had muttered and Brightkit was warmed by the memory. Silverkit was Silverkit: cautious, serious, and calm. He disapproved of her "kit-like nonsense" most of the time.

Brightkit secretly believed he had been born with the brain of an elder.

The kits scrambled out of the nursery. Well, Snowkit and Brightkit scrambled. Silverkit practically glided.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highledge." Whitestar struck an imperious figure as she waited patiently for her clan to gather around her. Her fur was immaculate and gleamed in the dawn light.

Brighkit led the way with her tail and chin held high. Snowkit bumped her shoulder every few steps to let her know he was still there. She was warmed by his affection, especially after a careful scan of the group assembled revealed that her father was not present. Brightkit swallowed hard.

Silverkit trotted along behind them, careful to avoid getting his fur messed up. Pebblesong and Nightfeather watched from the entrance of the nursery, eyes warm and fond.

"Silverkit," Whtiestar called and the tom stepped forward smoothly. "From this day forward until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Silverpaw. Rowanheart, you are a warrior of great intelligence and forethought. I expect you to pass on all you know."

The red-brown tom looked shakier than his new, and first, apprentice. He touched noses carefully with Silverpaw and they retreated, Rowanheart looking fit to burst with excitement.

"Snowkit, from this day forward until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Snowpaw." Brightkit cast her friend an excited glance. His small white paws kneaded the ground impatiently. "Thistlepelt, you are a warrior of great patience and bravery. I expect you to pass on all you know." The pair touched noses, Snowpaw's yellow eyes blazing with pure pride. Jealousy pricked at Brightkit's paws for the second time that morning and she worked to shove it away.

"Brightkit," Whitestar began. Brightkit's tail quivered. There weren't many warriors left. Leaptail was growing old and his daughter, Ashpelt, was too impatient for an apprentice. For a moment, Brightkit fantasized that her own father may be given to her. She could see them now, spending their days hunting and fighting together. He'd teach her all he knew and in return, he'd learn she wasn't a waste of space.

She dismissed that thought. Fathers were rarely given their own kits to mentor. And if he thought she was nothing, who was she to challenge her own father? She refocused on Whitestar, ears flattened. Humility, she remembered her mother saying, was something all great warriors must learn. She would be humble. She was nothing. But that didn't mean she couldn't become something.

"From this moment forward until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Brightpaw. Frozenclaw," and the white tom rose to his paws silently to pad forward. The yellow-furred she-cat turned to watch him, surprised but not unpleasantly so. Frozenclaw was a legendary fighter. "You are a warrior of great courage and skill. I expect you to pass on all you know."

Brightpaw touched noses with her new mentor, eyes wide. Whitestar stayed silent for a moment to let the chattering die down before she continued. "Lightstep scented rogues again on this dawn's border patrol."

A collective growl rose from the Clan. Brightpaw stiffened.

Whitestar gestured with her tail for silence. "The scent is in the same place, where our border and Shadowclan's ends. They don't seem to have encroached on our territory but be careful around that area. No apprentice is to go there alone."

A murmur of assent sounded from the crowd and Whitestar dipped her head, signaling the end of the meeting.

We have a lot of ground to cover today," he said and she nodded eagerly. She watched Snowpaw and Silverpaw leave together with their mentors and she felt a stab of disappointment when her mentor did not follow.

He turned to her. "I expect you to keep up, but let me know if you need a break," he said, and they were off. The brambles surrounding the entrance to camp tickled her fur as she brushed by. He led the way with the grace of a seasoned warrior, his paws practically gliding over the ground. She followed him around the hollow camp and stared down into it with wonder. She was careful not to get too close to the edge, but she still peered over and tried not to laugh when she saw Greykit attempting to escape the nursery. He was thwarted by a stern Pebblesong, who scolded him until his ears fell flat against his head.

Brightpaw backed up and found her mentor staring at her patiently, kindly.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly when the silence between them continued. "I just wanted to see what the camp looked like from above."

"It's good to familiarize yourself with the territory as much as possible. That includes camp. Just promise me you won't play around the edges." He fixed her with that same patient look and she nodded, half-expecting him to snap at her to behave. But he merely gestured with his tail and began to trot, ears pricked and alert. She scrambled to follow, panting by the time she caught up.

Surprise thrummed through her body when he gestured her to walk with him, not just behind him. "Leaf-bare will be here soon," he said in a conversational tone.

"What's it like?"

"Cold and wet," he snorted. He looked down at her crestfallen expression and his voice gentled. "But it can be beautiful, too. I'll show you the river when it's frozen over; it's quite the sight."

By sunhigh they had reached the abandoned Twoleg nest. She sniffed around at it for a little before they were off, Frozenclaw practically spewing information out as they went.

"That warm scent, right there," he paused, ears alert. "Do you smell it?"

She nodded eagerly.

"That's a vole. They smell different than mice, a bit more earthy. You'll get the distinction once you have a bit more practice in picking up scents. You've got a natural nose."

Brightpaw's chest warmed with pride at the light praise. She couldn't remember the last time her father had praised her for something.

They continued on that way, with Frozenclaw sharing information about the territory and the Clans and Brightpaw listening with rapt attention. She thirsted for the knowledge the warrior could give her, knowledge that he had promised to share freely the moment he accepted her as his apprentice.

A sudden change in the wind brought a rancid scent, unfamiliar cat scent too far from ShadowClan to be them. She glanced over at Frozenclaw, whose muscles had tensed.

"Rogues," he said in answer to her unspoken question. The word chilled her bones and she drank in the scent once again.

"It's strong," she commented and her mentor's eyes narrowed.

"They've marked their territory."

* * *

"Snowpaw!" Brightpaw yowled as she skidded into camp. Sunset was already far along and the chill of the leaf-fall night to come just barely brushed her thick coat. Snowpaw's head rose from where he lay by the prey pile. Silverpaw sat beside him, grooming.

She trotted over cheerfully, picking up a mouse as she went. She took a second to sniff a vole and note the difference before continuing over to her friends. Frozenclaw had already disappeared into Whitestar's den.

"You'll never guess what happened today," she purred. Snowpaw's eyes widened with curiosity and she settled down beside him. "Frozenclaw and I were over by the abandoned Twoleg nest and we scented rogues. He said they've marked their territory there," she chattered, tail waving.

Silverpaw's eyes narrowed. "Marked their territory? Who do they think they are?" he spat, silver fur fluffed. Snowpaw let out a low hiss.

"Maybe we'll get a new Clan soon, eh?" a new voice interrupted, belonging to a large ginger tom. He approached, his tortoiseshell sister, Sorrelpaw, at his side.

"What do you mean, Firepaw?" Snowpaw asked.

"Well, if we can teach those mouse-brains the warrior code and our way of life, they could become a Clan and take that territory over there. It's not like anyone is using it," Firepaw said carelessly.

Sorrelpaw glanced at her brother nervously. "I think it may be a bit more complicated than that, Firepaw."

"Yeah," Brightpaw growled. "And who wants to teach rogues anyway? Not like they'll learn."

Snowpaw's tail fell gently over her back, soothing her. "Not all rogues are fox-hearted, Brightpaw," he reminded her gently and she sucked in a deep breath.

"What would the new Clan be called anyway?" Silverpaw asked suddenly. They all turned to stare at him. "I know," he called triumphantly, "EarthClan."

Brightpaw wondered what the new Clan would be known for. Digging perhaps. The group burst into laughter and Silverpaw's ears flattened. "It's a possibility," he mumbled and they laughed all the harder.

Once they had quieted down Snowpaw flicked Brightpaw with his tail. "We scented a fox," he declared.

"Where?"

"Over by the WindClan border. Stank to StarClan, I'm surprised you couldn't smell it from the Twoleg nest."

Brightpaw shrugged, returning to her mouse. "Still not as interesting as the rogues," she teased with a glint in her eyes. Snowpaw growled and swiped her mouse out from under her nose, taking a triumphant bite out of it. She laughed and later on that night she fell asleep with the memory of Snowpaw's eyes shining back at her. He had always loved to make her laugh.

The week passed quickly while days grew shorter and colder. Brightpaw woke one moonhigh to frost on the ground just outside her den. She yawned, about to go back to sleep, when she realized the nest on Snowpaw's other side was empty.

She rose carefully and slipped out the den, following Silverpaw's scent outside camp and to the training hollow. Lightstep, the warrior on guard, merely gave her a friendly nod when she passed, whispering something about a bad dream.

She found the tom standing in the middle of the training hollow, staring up at the stars.

"Do you think StarClan gives us our fate at birth, or that we choose it?" he asked the moment she stepped foot in the hollow.

"I think we choose it."

She sat down beside him, tilting her head back so she too could stare at the stars. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

He didn't answer. Instead, he turned and faced her, blue eyes tired. "You and Snowpaw are close," he said. She nearly jumped.

"Yes, and?"

"You'll take care of him, won't you?"

"Silverpaw, what is this about?"

"I worry about him you know. He's so laid back and kind. I don't want that to ever change."

Brightpaw laughed lightly. "Snowpaw is Snowpaw, and he always will be. He is as solid and constant as the sun rising in the morning and falling at sunset."

Silverpaw nodded, looking relieved. "You will look after him?"

Brightpaw looked back up at the stars and thought gently of her yellow-eyed friend. "Always," she promised, not quite meaning to take the oath but taking it anyway.

* * *

It happened two days later.

They were patrolling the WindClan border when the rank scent hit them full force and out of the blue. Seasons after, Brightpaw would remember the terror that nearly froze her paws. The fear in her mentor's eyes.

"Fox. Get up the trees!" Rowanheart yowled, nudging a frozen Rainpaw from her spot. And then Brightpaw was moving, paws flying over the ground. Silverpaw was right behind her. His hot breath on her heels spurred her faster and faster until she nearly ran into the tree. She raced up the trunk, silently thanking Frozenclaw for all of his tree-climbing lessons. She hauled herself over one of the higher branches, staring down at aq red-furred creature that looked enough like a cat to disgust her. Silverpaw was just one branch below her, crouched unsteadily. His tail quivered as he tried to keep his balance.

Seasons later, Brightpaw would remember this moment too. She would remember watching with a sort of sick fascination as Silverpaw's foot slipped and he toppled over the branch, plunging to the ground like a rock in water. She would remember screaming soundlessly, mouth wide open, throat too constricted with horror to produce any sound. She would remember watching the fox close in, backing Silverpaw up against a tree, paying no attention as Rowanheart and Frozenclaw dropped to the ground behind it, screeching. And she would remember Silverpaw's fear. It lined every muscle in his body.

Without quite knowing what to do, Brightpaw slid down the trunk, pushing off and landing atop the fox. She dug her claws into its wiry shoulder and she yowled at the top of her lungs in its ears, hoping desperately to distract it. In one fluid motion, it bucked her off its back. She went flying before hitting a tree with a thud and falling in a useless heap to the forest floor. Her vision swam. With half-opened eyes, she watched Silverpaw lash out at the single-minded fox as best he could, lips drawn back in a savage snarl.

Their eyes met for just an instant before the fox lunged, past his feeble defense, right at his throat.

"Silverpaw!" she screamed.

"Mother," he wailed. His cry was cut short and Brightpaw watched as he went limp. Rowanheart fairly flew into the fox's side, causing it to stagger. By now Brightpaw's vision was back to normal and she could stand without vomiting. Suddenly, Frozenclaw was pushing her with his cold nose, growling as he did so, "Up the tree, hurry up!"

She obeyed mindlessly, numbly. She caught sight of Rainpaw's frightened wide eyes and she felt a sort of dull anger. Why didn't the she-cat help?

Frozenclaw and Rowanheart chased the fox away just a few minutes later, both panting, Rowanheart lapping the wound on his shoulder. Brightpaw crawled her way down the trunk of her tree and shuffled to where Silverpaw lay, still and cooling.

She nudged him hopefully, praying he would open his eyes and laugh it all off as some joke to get her heart racing. But he didn't and her heart nearly stopped. He looked so small and young. Too young to die.

Frozenclaw pressed his flank to hers. She blinked up at him and for the first time in her life she felt what she could only classify as heartbreak. "What am I going to tell Snowpaw?" she croaked and her mentor tucked her head under his chin while she grieved, head swimming and mouth open is a soundless wail.


	4. Chapter 3

Yay, I'm updating at last heh. Sorry for the long wait. So, disclaimer, yadda yadda, and many thanks to my incredible beta, Sierra, for her astonishingly wonderful work at improving my chapters. Review answers will be up on the blog in just a little bit. Enjoy, and please remember to review!

PS: to anyone who may be a Naruto fan, I have posted a new story in that exact fandom so if you want, go ahead and check it out. Much appreciated.

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**Chapter 3**

Brightpaw padded into camp with her head and tail low. The stench of blood rolled off of her, alerting every cat in the vicinity that something had happened.

Something awful.

Snowpaw was the first cat to dash up to her, nosing the blood on her paws and muzzle gently, probing for wounds. She shook her head wearily. The words caught in her throat and died away. All she could do was give her best friend in the entire world a sad, sad look through grief-filled green eyes.

"Brightpaw?" he asked, wary now. "What's wrong? Why is there blood on you? What happened?" He said all of this quickly, breathlessly. His voice rose in pitch with every word. Brightpaw stared at him unseeingly, trying to force herself to explain.

Rowanheart and Frozenclaw entered the scene just as she opened her mouth to speak. They carefully maneuvered Silverpaw's body around the gathering crowd of cats. Brightpaw turned to watch them walk by, afraid to see Snowpaw's eyes when he realized it was his brother's body they were carrying.

"Silverpaw," he breathed from beside her and then he was moving and she couldn't stop him. She felt the pain in his suddenly tense muscles and she immediately pulled away. She had never seen a cat look so angry. "Silverpaw!" he screamed.

The warriors gingerly lowered the body down to the ground in the middle of camp. By now, the entire Clan had gathered around, hushed whispers wandering from cat to cat. Snowpaw prodded his brother with a careful paw, bloodying himself in the process. Silverpaw's fur was soaked in the blood that had poured from his throat wound.

Brightpaw closed her eyes, hating the sight. She felt sick.

Her paws were heavy, almost too heavy to lift. But lift she did, one after another, until she was at Snowpaw's side.

"Snowpaw," she croaked. "I'm so sorry."

"What happened?" He didn't look at her. His bright eyes were focused solely on the small body at his paws.

"A fox, out of nowhere, and he lost his balance and oh- Snowpaw," she said, chest constricting painfully.

A wail rose from the crowd, and Brightpaw turned to see Nightfeather approaching, dark fur bristling.

Brightpaw's heart fell to pieces at the look in Nightfeather's eyes. She looked so lost, so tired. Brightpaw tried to tell her how she had tried to save him. How he had called for his mother with his last breaths. How she had been the last thing on his mind before dying. But she couldn't say anything that would ease the queen's grief. Nightfeather's legs shook as she bent her head to nose her silver-furred son gingerly.

After Nightfeather appeared everything seemed to pass in a haze. The Clan gathered to pay their respects. All Brightpaw could think to say was, "I'm sorry we delayed your ceremony." For some reason, she thought that if she had just stayed in camp, if he had become an apprentice sooner, this wouldn't have happened. He would have been trained to fight. Trained to hold his own until help came. The guilt threatened to drown her.

The night was bitterly cold and startlingly clear. The stars were almost mocking in their brightness. Brightpaw shivered and pressed closer to Snowpaw for warmth, more for him than for herself. His thin white fur offered no protection from the cold, but he hardly seemed bothered. His eyes were far away as he gazed at his litter-mate. His brother.

With dawn came the elders and Brightpaw watched them go with a curious detachment. She had grieved, she felt, and now she wanted rest.

Snowpaw followed her to the den, head and tail low, ears flat. He curled up in his nest and was almost instantly asleep, sides heaving as he dreamed.

Brightpaw tossed and turned for hours before she gave up on sleep and left, tail swishing with annoyance. Whenever she closed her eyes, all she saw was Silverpaw's crumpled body. Outside, it was nearing sunhigh, the air sharp and brisk. She suddenly felt suffocated by her Clanmates, feeling crowded. As they turned their pitying gazes on her, she growled low in her chest and strode out of camp. She neither wanted nor deserved their pity.

Once out of camp, she picked up the pace until she was running, sprinting really. The rocks that occasionally grazed her paws came as a relief, the pain a welcome sensation. Her pads had yet to accustom to the rough forest terrain. She was grateful for it, in that moment. She wanted to feel something, anything but this numbness.

Before long, she was at the tree and oh StarClan, she could still _smell_ the blood. It had stained the earth. The stench of death hung heavy in the air. She wondered if different deaths smelled alike. Perhaps what she was tasting right now was the unique scent of a death-too-soon.

She clambered up the tree, settling on the branch that Silverpaw had so carefully chosen just the day before. It was an odd feeling, losing someone you were close to. One day they were there, and the next they weren't. So simple and sad. And in the end, not so very simple at all.

Brightpaw watched the sun peak and begin to fall, not moving, hardly daring to breath.

At sunhigh he came, white fur bright in the sunlight, blue eyes calm as ever. She had been expecting another white tom to follow her, but in hindsight she realized it made sense for her mentor to follow her. He was in charge of her. She needed his guidance.

"I thought I'd find you here," Frozenclaw called up.

Brightpaw shrugged.

"Come down so we can talk."

She stared at him. "I keep thinking that maybe if I stay here and stay really quiet, yesterday will start all over again, and this time I'll save him." She choked and tucked her chin to her white chest, shutting her eyes tight. She didn't watch as her mentor carefully scaled the tree, inching his way onto a branch just beside her.

"Brightpaw," he said, and his voice was so gentle, so kind. "It was nobody's fault."

Her breath came in ragged gasps and all the grief she hadn't felt that morning collapsed against her like a tree struck by lightning. Her chest heaved as she fought for breath. "I tried!" she wailed. "I tried and I wasn't good enough to save him. If he had been an apprentice longer, he could've learned to defend himself. To fight. It is my fault, Frozenclaw!"

He blinked at her with those steady eyes of his and waited until she caught her breath. Then, he reached out his tail and brushed it lightly against her side. "There was nothing that could have been done," he said simply.

Brightpaw allowed his words to soak in, blinking as they soothed the hurt. There had been nothing neither she nor Rowanheart or Frozenclaw could have done.

"Let's go hunting," he suggested after a few quiet moments. "It will take your mind off of it."

"Did you see how Snowpaw was doing?"

"He was still sleeping when I left. Same as Nightfeather."

She nodded, and they climbed down, Frozenclaw's tail brushing her flank every so often, comforting her.

She returned at sunset with two mice clamped firmly in her jaws. Frozenclaw followed with a sparrow and vole. He gave her one last encouraging glance before he was off to the medicine cat den, one of his ears in tatters from the fight the day before.

Brightpaw found Rowanheart picking half-heartedly at small bird. She felt herself soften at the sight of him. She had forgotten Rowanheart's excitement to finally be given an apprentice. His grief would be just as great as hers.

"Rowanheart," she said quietly, dropping her mice and stretching out beside him. His red-brown fur was messy and unkempt. His tail tip twitched and he turned to her with tired eyes. She remembered him as a younger warrior, visiting her in the nursery to chat with her mother. They had been close, former apprentice and mentor. He would play with her and Snowpaw until it was time for his patrol, and he always left promising to bring them a rabbit to share. The light in his eyes was gone now, replaced with a heavy emotion she now understood, even if she couldn't quite grasp the depth of it.

"What is it, Brightpaw?" he asked wearily.

She pressed her head to his shoulder, rubbing against him with a faint purr.

"It's okay to be sad, but it wasn't your fault, okay?" She blinked up at him and he gave a small nod as acknowledgement. She remained with him, forcing him to finish his meal. By the time he had finished and returned to the warrior den, the stars were making their appearance. Brightpaw shivered as she made her way to her den, heart sinking when she saw Snowpaw's familiar shape still curled up in his nest.

"Snowpaw," she called softly. He didn't twitch. She sighed. "Snowpaw, please."

After a few moments, he slowly turned his head to look at her. His eyes were darkened by grief, his face drawn tight. His slim shoulders curved in as though he were trying to make himself as small as possible. Brightpaw felt a pang deep in her gut, a sharp stab of grief and fear and guilt.

"Have you eaten?" She tried to ask it normally but she couldn't keep the quiver out of her voice. He shook his head and lowered it once again so his chin was resting on his bedding, his face still turned toward her. "I'll get you something small, okay? You need to eat." She didn't wait for him to nod or say yes. She returned with one of the mice she had caught, the smaller one.

Snowpaw heaved himself to his feet like an elder with aching joints. He took small bites at first, then bigger, until he was tearing into the mouse with vigor. Brightpaw watched with a glitter of amusement in her eyes. Nothing woke Snowpaw up faster than food.

When he was done, he sat down just outside the den with her to groom. She pressed against him and after he was done, they sat quietly for a few minutes. The silence was welcome. It was never awkward between them, who had known each other since birth, who could communicate more through touch and eyes. She felt selfish, for leaving when he so desperately needed her to stay. She may have lost a friend, but he had lost a brother. She pressed her cheek to his shoulder, rubbing against it in what she hoped was a comforting manner. They sat like that, together and warm, for a good while before he broke the silence.

"Where did you go?" His voice was soft, not accusing or sharp like claws.

So she told him. She told him about the tree and Frozenclaw and her hunting. She told him about the guilt her bones were swimming in and she told him about the peace she had come to. And because he was Snowpaw, he listened without interruption, merely watching her with his steady yellow eyes. When she had finished, he pushed his nose to her shoulder, sighing, a deep, grown-up sigh. His breath tickled her flanks and parted the fur on her shoulder. He remained that way for a few moments before withdrawing, face softened, shoulders straight.

"I'll miss him," he admitted, turning his head to the stars. She leaned her head against his shoulder, wondering when he had grown so much taller than her.

"Me, too."

* * *

The week passed quickly for Brightpaw. She kept busy doing patrols, training, or caring for the elders. In her spare time, she ate with Snowpaw and joked around and watched as the shroud of sorrow slowly lifted.

Nightfeather spent two days in the warrior den before she emerged, gaunt but groomed, raising her chin proudly. She and Snowpaw had eaten together and purred and shared tongues, neither one of them mentioning the aching hole in their chest.

The fox was still around. The patrols caught its scent consistently near the WindClan border. They searched warily for its den. Until then, Brightpaw was not allowed to go out alone. None of the apprentices were. Her father had been furious when he found out she'd visited the tree without Frozenclaw with her. He'd given her a deep scratch on her shoulder that would not easily fade. She blamed it on a clumsy mishap involving her still-too-big-paws and a tree branch. Snowpaw had just clenched his jaw and looked away with fury in his shoulders and sweeping tail.

A little more than a week after Silverpaw's death, Brightpaw trotted into camp to be faced with a panicked Pebblesong and her mate, Stonefall, attempting to soothe her. Beside her, Frozenclaw tensed as he shoved his way forward through the cats. Thistlepelt was there as well, looking completely lost as he tried to comfort the queen. Brightpaw sidled up beside Snowpaw.

"What's going on?" she breathed.

"Spiderkit is missing."

She cursed underneath her breath. Of all the kits, why did it have to be Spiderkit, her secret favorite? He reminded her of Silverpaw, so calm and quiet. She would bet her whiskers that Greykit had put him up to it. She turned her head to glare at the big tom kit. He shrank back, his sister brushing against his side comfortingly.

"Alright, everyone calm down. I'll pick a patrol to find him. He couldn't have gone far," Thistlepelt called over the steady hum of voices. They all quieted down as he surveyed the gathered cats. "Frozenclaw, Stonefall, Fallowsong, Ravencall, Firepaw and Snowpaw, you're all with me." Snowpaw leaped to his feet, ears alert and tail swishing with excitement.

"Be careful," Brightpaw reminded him, the memory of the fox still painful. He purred and leaned forward to rub his cheek against hers.

"I'll come back safe and sound," he promised cheerfully before he was gone. Brightpaw found her mentor and nudged him to get his attention.

"I want to go," she almost begged. Her eyes were wide with desperation in what she hoped was a beseeching expression. Frozenclaw looked unsurprised.

"You heard what Thistlepelt said. Stay here and see if Spiderkit makes his way back, alright?"

"Can I at least patrol the edges of camp, in case he falls in?"

He eyed her for a moment before nodding. "Take someone with you, preferably a warrior." And then he was gone too.

Brightpaw searched for a moment before approaching Lightstep, the tortoiseshell mother of Firepaw and Sorrelpaw. "Frozenclaw told me I could patrol the edges of camp in case Spiderkit comes back. Want to join?"

Lightstep nodded her consent and followed Brightpaw out of camp. "Poor kit must be terrified," Lightstep murmured. Brightkit secretly agreed. Spiderkit wasn't likely to be having a ton of fun out there alone.

"I wish he had taken someone with him," Brightpaw muttered, weaving her way through the undergrowth, mouth open as she tried to catch a scent. "It would make him easier to track." Lightstep hummed her agreement.

They circled the camp a few times before Lightstep found a snag of black fur hanging off a bramble bush just northeast of the camp. "The patrol went in the opposite direction," Lightstep sighed, ears flattening. Brightpaw sniffed the fur carefully before growling.

"Let's go. He can't be far and it will be dark soon."

And he was headed to the fox's territory.

Lightstep hesitated for a split second before nodding, amber eyes determined.

Brightpaw set a brisk pace, being the better tracker of the two. She followed his faint scent toward the WindClan border, heart sinking with each step. It wasn't long before the scent faded completely. Brightpaw sighed, glancing up at the setting sun with worry writhing in her stomach. This wasn't good.

"Let's split up," Lightstep suggested. "I don't smell the fox anywhere, but be careful. If you find him or catch a trail, yowl. I won't be far." Brightpaw nodded and continued to the left, waving her tail at Lightstep as she fought her way further into the dense undergrowth.

Uneasiness settled in her stomach. Just because they couldn't smell the fox didn't mean it wasn't there. She was just beginning to doubt Lightstep's plan when she happened upon a gnarled oak tree with a small hollow at the bottom. Small enough for a kit like Spiderkit to fit through.

His still-milky scent filled the air and she breathed a sigh of relief. "Spiderkit," she called joyfully, all anxiety vanishing. The sun was almost all the way down and the chill of the night was setting in.

Spiderkit's head popped out, eyes wide with relief. "Brightpaw," he cried. "I got lost and I stepped on a thorn and I can't walk and- oh, Brightpaw, I'm sorry, Greykit dared me to, and he called me a wimp-"

She silenced him with a brush of her nose against the top of his head. "It's all right, I'm just glad that you're safe." She eyed the thorn in his paw before yanking it out, telling him to press his paw against some moss to stop the bleeding.

Just as she turned to yowl for Lightstep, a sickeningly familiar scent washed over her and she was shoving Spiderkit back into the hollow so hard he almost toppled over. "Stay quiet and stay hidden!" she hissed.

She turned, legs bent, head lowered, teeth bared in a snarl. She watched as the fox emerged, skinny and obviously starving. Prey was beginning to thin as the forest prepared for leaf-bare.

Her mind raced. Did she climb the tree and trust the hollow to offer enough protection for Spiderkit? Did she grab him and run? Or did she face the fox down like a mouse-brain?

The fox lunged and she realized quickly that the last option had become her only one._ Frozenclaw is going to kill me. _

Brightpaw screeched as she darted forward to meet it, throwing herself at it, hoping to catch its neck in her jaws. She got its shoulder instead and she clamped down tight. Her satisfaction quickly turned to pain as the fox buried its teeth in her flank and tore her away. She hit the ground with a thud. Brightpaw quickly scrambled to her feet again, taking up the same position she had started with. She caught a glimpse of Spiderkit's frightened, pale blue eyes and she felt her resolve to protect him harden. She would protect this kit with her life, if that was what it took.

The fur along her spine spiked up and she let loose a challenging yowl at the pacing fox. It lunged again and this time she stood firm, lashing out with a steady forepaw and scoring her claws across its face. It yelped again before snapping its jaws around her shoulder and throwing her to the ground. Brightpaw panicked as she struggled to get back on her paws. The fox dug its claws into her chest and raked down slowly, the pain agonizing. She screamed as it continued, down to her soft underbelly. She scrabbled with her back paws before finally getting hold of the fox and managing to shove it off of her. She was back on her feet in an instant, panting. She could smell her blood staining the earth below her and she thought, with bizarre clarity, that she was going to die protecting this kit.

Her legs shook beneath her, barely supporting her weight as she eyed the fox warily. Her muscles tensed as she waited for its next move. It was more cautious of her now. It moved slowly and looked at her with calculated menace that brought a shiver to her spine.

"Come and fight me, then!" she spat. Just as the fox was crouching for another lunge, a blur of tortoiseshell fur rammed into the fox. Brightpaw watched with fascinated relief as Lightstep rounded on the fox, screeching her fury. After her followed Thistlepelt, Stonefall, Frozenclaw…the entire patrol. Snowpaw was at her side in a flash, and she breathed out a huff of surprise when he nosed the wound on her shoulder.

She refused to move from her spot, insisting with slurred words that she needed to protect Spiderkit. Protect Spiderkit. It was all she could think and all she could feel. She watched without seeing as the patrol of angry warriors pinned the fox and dealt the killing blows. She watched its blood pour out onto the dried up earth and she thought, a little belatedly, _I really hate that fox. _

Snowpaw was saying something to her, but she couldn't hear him, couldn't hear Frozenclaw as he bent his head and spoke to her very quickly. She didn't feel the ground rise up to meet her when she finally collapsed, exhausted and still losing blood.


End file.
